


Downpour

by Somekindofcontraption



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Car Sex, F/M, Public Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofcontraption/pseuds/Somekindofcontraption
Summary: "All gaping maw was Ares, all predatory shark teeth. Sharp red eyes tempered under a mop of disarming curls. Broad, calloused hands and thick, clumsy fingers. Always pushing too hard, too fast, or moving too slow, too languid. Always pushing her against the tide but in the directions she most needed to be in."Persephone never makes it to the front of Hades' line, and goes home with Ares instead.Alternate fantasy ending to episode 86 - for science, of course.
Relationships: Ares/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 301





	Downpour

Capturing Ares’ attention was like getting caught in a summer downpour.

One minute the air around you is all muggy heat, thick as butter. A slick sheen of perspiration on your skin, all sticky with the summer damp. Clouds rolling in, and the dull rumble of dry thunder that comes from hot cloud rubbing against hot cloud, all those minute frissons of static and heat. Angry swirls of black and grey tumbling towards you over the horizon. 

The skies opening up without warning, drenching you with endless cascading hot rain. 

The kind of rain that does nothing to relieve you from the endless damp, but that nonetheless washes you clean. The kind of rain made for dancing naked in, for swimming in lakes warmed by the summer sun, for acting with reckless, sticky abandon. 

“I thought you’d be happy to see me?” That voice, smug and cock-sure, the first sign of an oncoming storm. 

“Nope!” Persephone had replied, untruthfully. No confidently delivered cool reply could disguise the forget-me-nots winking into existence at her temples, her ill-controlled joy worn like a crown around her head.

“Nope?” Infuriating, that delighted golden face looking down at her from under that stupid military cap. Persephone turned on heel, spine stiff as a board, sweating bullets, staring straight ahead while every molecule of her was screaming to touch him.

“You know, turning around won’t make me go away.” 

_Didn’t she know it._

All gaping maw was Ares, all predatory shark teeth. Sharp red eyes tempered under a mop of disarming curls. Broad, calloused hands and thick, clumsy fingers. Always pushing too hard, too fast, or moving too slow, too languid. Always pushing her against the tide but in the directions she most needed to be in. 

Burning hot in all directions, all at once. Always dancing the razor’s edge of control, stoking her fiery temper where she tempered his. Two ruined halves crashing together into an imperfect, fitting whole. Ares made it easy to be in love with him, even when he wasn’t easy to love. 

Even when he made her want to tear her hair out, it was impossible to separate herself from the feeling that kissing Ares was comfortable, like home or hearth. Persephone loved him first, because he saw her before she could even see herself. 

—————

In a verdant glade the summer before she came to Olympus, Ares had charmed Demeter’s nymphs, tricking them into leaving her unattended. Plump with optimism, he’d called her. Maybe she was, but Kore fell apart in his hands like a puff of dandelion, caution scattered on the winds of change as he kissed her breathless up against a willow tree.

Ares hands were hot, too hot, like the long leg he dared to press between her thighs before she’d told him no, before he put space between them to catch his breath and left her shivering. The space was a lucky break as at that moment Demeter had rounded the corner, chasing Ares off with some choice insults and an oversized pitchfork. 

The threat of Demeter obviously wasn’t enough to stop him. 

Ares came every day, sometimes hovering just beyond the tree line with that playful, feral grin on his face that pinked her cheeks, stirred something in her belly. Sometimes she’d ignore him, as hard as it was. Sometimes Kore would watch him watching her as she went about her chores. Sometimes he would sneak through the trees and steal another quick kiss before disappearing as quickly as he came, before the nymphs even knew he was there.

At the end of that week, Ares tricked the nymphs again, spiriting Persephone off into the hollow of an ancient tree, carved out and tall enough for them to hide in. The way he pressed his mouth into hers was desperate, but he kept his hands in the air, hovering near her skin but never touching, not even trying again to press his leg between her legs. 

Poised, waiting for her permission. She was in control.

Persephone grabbed his hands, and fumbling, guided them down her arms, over the curves of her waist, before moving them to her her hips and down her backside. Ares grabbed her plump asscheeks, squeezing them, pressing his tongue into her waiting mouth until her body trembled in anticipation of something, _anything_ more _,_ and both of them were panting. 

“I can’t—“ She heard herself gasp, and some primal part of her brain objected, loudly, saying _yes you absolutely can._

“I know,” Ares rumbled into her mouth, hardly pausing to get the words out. 

“I’m sorry, I — ”

“I want you, Kore. I won’t pretend I don’t. But I’m not here to push you. At least, not like that.” Ares huffed out a laugh like he’d made some inside joke, nuzzling his face into her hair. “Duty calls. Just wanted to let you know, I won’t be around anymore. Didn’t want to leave without saying something.”

Ares trailed off and something in her stuttered, heavy anguish settling over her. Kore looked up at him, her mussed hair falling long and wild around her face, lips rubbed and plump and wet from kissing him. 

“Won’t be around for a while? Or won’t be around ever again?” Kore asked meekly.

“I don’t know,” Ares replied. The somber look on his face was quickly replaced with that shark-toothed grin, as he gave her ass another squeeze. “I’ll miss this, though. We have fun together, don’t we Kore?”

The way Ares said it, it was as if he knew that fun wasn’t the only thing between them. Kore gave him a playful smack on the arm. “Ass.” 

“ _Exactly,”_ Ares cackled, landing a playful tap on her rear and retaking her mouth. Kore was squeezed between his lithe body and the knotted insides of the tree trunk, breathy groans escaping her mouth as Ares bit at her lips, pushed against her tongue with his own. 

_“My lady?_ Kore, where are you?” A chorus of voices came from outside of their haven, calling her name, breaking the spell between them. “Kore! Please, come out now!”

Ares released her with a wink, and without another word the summer storm that was Ares drifted out of her life as quickly as he’d come into it.

—————

Hades was something altogether different than Ares. 

Where Ares was hot summer storms, basking in Hades’ attention was like standing in a cool spring rain. Those days in early spring when trees were just beginning to flower, the smell of freshly turned soil, the warmth of the sun tempered by the gentle pitter-pat of icy rain drops hitting the ground. 

Pillowy clouds blooming across the sky, wet-on-wet, painted across a canvas of blue-grey; that was Hades all over, all that soft and cloudy watercolor sky. Like your grateful face upturned toward the rain fall, blissful on your skin, refreshing. Just to stand there in that rain, Persephone melted like sugar in its wake, pooling to the floor at Hades feet. 

But where Ares was always certain, always _yes,_ Hades was a series of maybes, a never-ending stream of possibilities just out of reach. Innumerable obstacles, a game whose rules were constantly changing. 

Waiting in line outside of Hades’ office, with Ares’ fingers raking through her hair, Persephone could feel the tension in her shoulders building, anger pulling her body taught like a bowstring in Ares’ hands as she thought about facing another day of uncertain and tenuous dancing around the King of the Underworld

“You’re just sulking because he didn’t invite you to come and help.”

“YOU SMUG BASTARD. YOU’RE NOT INSIGHTFUL OR CLEVER!” Persephone shouted, as if untruths could clear away the feeling twisting inside of her, clear away the fact that in that moment Ares _was_ both insightful and clever. At least, when it came to reading her. “YOU DON’T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME!”

“I think I know you better than anyone, _Kore_.” With her feet off the floor they were now at eye level, red gaze leveled at red gaze, a delighted smirk splitting wide his sunset face. Persephone was shuddering with her anger, spilling over with rage, tiny tendrils of red peeking out of her wild mane. “I know what you need right now, and I know you don’t want to need it.” 

The line in front of her which seemed to stretch for miles now seemed unending. It would be the whole afternoon before she could get to Hades— and then what? Would she scold the King of the Underworld for hurting her feelings? Tell him to consider the feelings of some village girl before making decisions? After, would she somehow explain the sick truth in her gut, of the guilt she didn’t feel when she was with him, how she always walked away feeling hurt by all the things they couldn’t be?

How would Hades look at her, what would he think? Would he consider her feelings, or would he simply brush her off with a non-apology, a lavish gift, kind words? How could she expect one of the three most powerful Gods in Olympus to change to suit her, after so long of doing whatever he wanted without consequence?

Ares’ eyes gleamed with mischief; he already knew what she’d decided. Narrowing her eyes at him, Persephone drifted down to the floor, straightening her coffee-stained dress and turning away from the line in front of her.

“Get me out of here, Ares.” 

—————

The storm rolled in again. Everything that came after was a blur.

They made it to the parking garage, to Ares’ slick sports car, when Persephone shoved him up against the shiny surface with a low growl, yanking him to bend down by his heavily starched tie. He smelled earthy, like sweet sweat and hot days in the garden, intermingled with the smell of pressed linen, his mouth hot and yielding to hers as she pushed her tongue past his lips. 

With a pleased groan he lifted her, turning them so that it was her back against the car, ass pressing against his car window. Persephone couldn’t bring herself to care about the public venue, bringing one of Ares’ hands to her breast, an invitation. He rubbed her nipple through the fabric until it was taut, straining. Arching towards him, opening up under his hands.

Persephone was a mess of sensation, but below that something unfamiliar; a rage that she didn’t know how to quiet. She was angry at how the day had gone, at how she’d let Ares get under her skin. Angry that Ares was right. Angry at Hades for being unavailable and for making decisions for her that affected her directly. It was simmering down in the core of her being, she was frothing with it, being stoked to a rolling boil under the heat of Ares’ hands.

With a discontented groan Persephone pushed off of Ares’ chest like a springboard, bracing herself back against the car so she could look at him. “Get me out of here,” she echoed her earlier request. “Anywhere. I don’t care, just get me out.” 

The God of War was flushed before her, chest heaving, looking at her like she was a particularly tempting snack, that cheshire smirk spread over his face. “You’re so angry, Kore. Doesn’t it feel good, to finally let yourself be angry?” 

Persephone rolled her eyes. “You can be pleased with yourself later, _momma’s boy._ I said get me out of here.” 

That grin widened impossibly, and Ares leaned in to nip at the pulse point in her throat, just on the edge of too hard. She yelped indignantly, sliding down the car and to her feet, and rounding the car to the passengers side. 

—————

As they passed the gates of the Underworld, Ares slipped his hand up her skirt. The adrenaline rush kept her from making a snide remark about road safety, the heady rush of hormones telling her _who cares, you’re immortal_ as she spread her legs to allow access to his searching fingers. Beside her, Ares hummed appreciatively as his hands slipped past her underwear, running one thick finger up her slit. 

“Wet already, Kore? Didn’t take much, did it? Just some kissing and you’re _slick_ for me…” Ares traced his way up to her clit and applied pressure with two fingers. Persephone gasped, looking down at where his hand stretched her panties to reach inside, moving in steady fluid circles as he rubbed that sensitive nub of flesh. “We couldn’t do it where Mommy Demeter might catch us, but I know you wanted to, I could see it in your eyes.” 

“You’re lucky I like you, you arrogant so-and-so,” Persephone said through gritted teeth, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see the smug sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t talk about my mom with your hands in my pants. You know for a fact I— ah—I wasn’t ready then.” 

“No… no Kore, you weren’t. But you’re ready now, aren’t you?” Ares chuckled. “I mean, obviously you’re _ready_ — _”_

“Stop. Talking.” 

“Yes ma’am!” 

Persephone’s breaths were coming in shallow pants, her hands sore from gripping the seat, arching her pelvis up to thrust gently against his teasing hand. Orgasm crashed over her all at once, so different from when she was alone doing this herself. 

_“Ares.”_ A wail escaped her mouth and she grabbed his hand in an attempt to still it, shaking when he continued to rub her, edging into the realm of being overstimulating. Persephone’s skin felt hot, her clothes rubbing the wrong way, the air of the car too still around her. All she knew was that she wanted, and that she was going to have. “Pull over.” 

Ares looked at her, amused, before pulling his hand from her underwear and slowly, deliberately, sucking his fingers clean, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Persephone realized her mouth was hanging open, the stray thought of _why is that even arousing?_ drifting through her consciousness followed by _I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life as him._

“Sorry, what was that?” Ares said innocently. Persephone growled in response, a guttural, feral sound she wasn’t even sure came out of her. 

“Pull over, Ares. Don’t make me wait.” 

“Yes ma’am!” Ares said again, mocking a salute before pulling into a turn off, shifting into park. He’d barely shut off the engine before Persephone had jumped the center console straight into his lap, scrambling and shifting until she could get her legs astride his, and going straight for his throat with her teeth. 

Bright bruises, golden orange on his skin, bloomed in an erratic trail as she bit her way up the strong muscle of the side of his neck, pausing to take his earlobe in her teeth, fingernails digging painfully into his shoulders. 

They both jumped when her ass pressed against the horn, and when Persephone giggled against his neck, he couldn’t help but grin back at her. It was intoxicating; he made her feel thick, and a little silly. 

Ares reached for the lever to push his seat all the way back from the steering wheel, while Persephone reached between them to palm awkwardly at his cock where it strained against his slacks. Impatient, Ares did them both a favor by unbuttoning his coat and undercoat with practiced fingers. 

The cast made it awkward, and he cursed himself for indulging Hebe, who wanted something to sign, as if he’d ever _not_ indulge Hebe. Before long he had his tie loosened, his shirt and coat open, and Persephone was pushing both layers off his shoulders, clawing sharp fingernails down his chest. 

Ares threw his head back against the seat, scrabbling for purchase and finding some at her plush love handles, squeezing the pleasingly plump flesh in his hands and rolling her body against his own. _Fuck, she is wild, she makes me wild_ came a frantic thought, unbidden. 

The shirt was gone but the tie wasn’t, and Persephone used it to jerk him towards her into another rough, heated kiss; more teeth than tongue, all sharp and clumsy passion, making up for a lack of finesse with the sort of enthusiasm he’d imagined. 

The sweet ones were always the most enthusiastic.

After a long period of gasping and groaning and rubbing, Persephone ripped the button from his pants trying to get them open. With a creative wiggle of his hips his thick cock was freed from his pants — _no underwear_ , she thought vaguely _—_ slapping wetly against his belly, his pants pulled down to the crease of his ass. 

It took just another moment for Persephone to adjust her hips, ruck up her skirt, and pull aside her underwear to line his cock up with her dripping sex. Hovering over him, hair mussed, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed; Persephone looked every bit the goddess she was meant to be. Equal parts rough fury under all that sweet, soft exterior. 

The marks littering his body proof of what she was capable of. 

With a cry Persephone sank down onto his twitching, leaking cock, leaning her sweaty forehead against his chest, and it occurred to her just how big the size difference between them was. Their bodies, and his cock. A dull ache bloomed inside her and she relished in it; a good hurt, satisfying, filling her.

Everything came to her through a thick fog of need, interrupted as Ares gave one sharp thrust into her, bottoming out again with a shudder. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders, nipping at his nipple with sharp teeth to stifle herself. He groaned underneath her, thrusting again, and she shifted her hips, trying to meet his thrusts with her own in a steady rhythm. 

“Look at me,” Ares said through clenched teeth, reaching to cup her breasts in his wide, rough palms. Persephone groaned, raising her head to look at him, eyes unfocused and blown wide, nearly black. “Is this what you wanted, Kore? To bounce yourself on my cock, fuck the anger out of you?” 

She could only moan in response, speeding up, bucking wildly against him, gasping at the pinching feeling inside her belly where the tip of him went deep, almost too much. Ares was babbling now, frantic, clutching her like a lifeline, watching with pleasure as her tits bounced with the force of their fucking, the car rocking, the raw excitement of it all. 

“You’ve been so angry for so long Kore. You’ve been begging for this, practically _gagging_ for it, but you know I’d never take anything you weren’t ready and willing to give.” Ares speech was ragged now, geeked out between gasping gulps of air and low moans. “I’m so proud of you Kore. _Persephone._ All that raw power and sex and rage lurking under the surface, and no one knows but me and you what you’re capable of.” 

Drunk on him, that feeling that her rage was slipping away from her, replaced with wanting, with the desire to take, the building pleasure in her gut that told her she was close to coming. Persephone surged forward, grabbing Ares’ lower lip between her teeth and tugging, the sweet metallic taste of ichor telling her she’d broken the skin. 

He was urged on by it, reaching up under her dress to drag his nails down her back, to dig fingers into her hips until half-formed fingerprints marked her skin as proof of what they could be when they were together. 

Rough, and hard, almost violent; and then all at once it wasn’t. Persephone trembled and quaked and came, holding him tight, shuddering around him, and pulled him into a searing kiss, hips slowing to an unhurried grind, his cock barely moving inside her. When she pulled away to look into his eyes, the anger had been replaced with something gentle, something like adoration

“Shhh,” Persephone hushed him when he growled, pushing in an attempt to resume their frantic pace, but she gentled his movements with tiny hands clutching at his hips. The next kiss was slow, and achingly sweet as if to smooth over the damage done to his lip, and he could feel his orgasm at the edge of it all. “Take it slow, Ares. Enjoy it. We’ve done it your way for a while. But doesn’t it feel good, to feel cared for, to take it slow, to enjoy it?” 

Ares, Gods help him, he _whined_ listening to her whisper sweetly into his mouth, sharing heaving breaths, air passing from her mouth to his and back again, warm and wet between them. 

“I love you, Ares. In my own way, I’ve loved you for a very long time. You see things in me no one else does, and I loved you for it, and I was so sad when you said you wouldn’t be back,” Persephone spoke, her voice heavy with lust and love, a melody in the quiet car as they rocked against each other. “You knew exactly what I needed, and now I’d like it if— I’d like to see you—” 

Ares came, gasping into her mouth, hips jerking involuntarily under her, cock twitching and filling her with we heat. They clung to each other, new aches making themselves known as they stilled, until Ares’ cock softened and finally slipped out to rest limp and warm against his thigh. He whispered things into her hair in an ancient tongue; soft things he didn’t dare say out loud for anyone to hear but her.

Persephone couldn’t remember a time in recent memory where she felt so in control, but also so safely out of control. If you let him, Ares could wring you dry, leaving you pent up, a dry thunderstorm in a mid-season draught, with ashes in your mouth. But it seemed to her that if you knew exactly when to push, and exactly when to pull—

Well, Persephone intended to see this through; to see exactly how well the God of War and the God of Spring could fit together.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for myself, because I wanted to see what would happen if Persephone got sick of waiting for Hades to get his head out of his ass and just went home with Ares instead. I also wanted to explore Persephone's rage and give it a (maybe not the go-to) outlet. Cheers if you gave this a shot :P


End file.
